


What Goes Around

by Viori (nihilists)



Category: Hyde (Musician) - Fandom, Kaz (Musician) - Fandom, VAMPS (Band)
Genre: Humor, M/M, Sex Dreams, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-09
Updated: 2013-11-09
Packaged: 2017-12-31 23:24:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1037632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nihilists/pseuds/Viori
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The wonders of male bonding in a foreign land, where the strangest of things can bring two people together -- or at one another's throats.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Goes Around

 

 

 

 

What Goes Around  
by Viori

  
  
Late summer, 2006. This wasn't their country. Kaz had been sitting out on the lip of stairs that led to the sidewalk outside the San Francisco hotel he shared with Hyde, having found out the hard way that he wasn't allowed to smoke inside the hotel. Nothing like getting scolded by a housekeeper in a language you didn't know. This definitely wasn't their country for that mere fact alone. The roadies, the crew, they were all staying elsewhere; someplace less pricey. Not that this hotel was anything to really boast about, anyway. That was Hyde's doing.  
  
He hadn't wanted anything ritzy, he wanted the "real American experience", he'd said. Remembering, Kaz chuckled as he examined the end of his spent cigarette. The embers had burned too close to the filter; the taste of the smoke had turned sour. He flicked it into the dry gutter and headed back inside. That was the last his pack had to offer him, bought only two days ago. He knew where to get another without having to brave the foreign streets. Hyde smoked more than he did, which was a worrying thing in the same way that it was a novelty; it accounted for the change in Hyde's voice over time, from the sugar-sap tenor of his early twenties to the gritty songbird of the present.  
  
He rapped his knuckles on Hyde's door in a cursory gesture before inserting the metal key into the lock to let himself in. That had surprised him, real keys as opposed to key cards. It was another novelty in this young country that seemed to be keen on pretending it was better than everyone else, primarily through the modernization of everything and anything.  
  
He let himself in, unannounced, his eyes seeking out not Hyde's slim figure but his bag where he knew his cigarettes were kept. He spotted it on the bed along with a few shopping bags and an old battered book Hyde had been reading on the flight over.  
  
Kaz paused in mid-reach for the bag and instead found his fingers closing around the book, lifting it, thumbing through the pages. It occurred to him, then, that he hadn' t bothered to find out what the book had been about on the entire flight over from Tokyo to the States. He had sat next to Hyde inhaling the scent of his floral cologne for what seemed like a lifetime on the godforsaken trip and had never asked. He wondered why.  
  
Investigating it, it amused him to discover that it was a vintage paperback romance novel, of all things in God's green creation. The cover was a plain, unobtrusive moth brown, which served to disguise the colorful contents found within. With a grin slowly forming on his face, Kaz sank down onto the mattress and leaned back against the pillows, intending to discover just what was in there that Hyde liked reading about so much.  
  


>  _Celeste came into the room, her heart racing madly. She knew she shouldn't be here, she knew she didn't belong. Her flaxen hair fell around her doll-like face as she shivered in the cold winter air, wearing nothing but her thin nightdress, her breasts silhouetted in a shaft of moonlight that fell through the stable rafters. Mother would disapprove, surely... but oh! She wanted him. She craved him every hour of the day, the image of him burned into her mind like the angry red mark of a hot iron. She would find him. She knew he had to be here in the stables. It was his place._

  
  
"Oh, ho ho, fuck," Kaz laughed in disbelief. A bodice-ripper? An old girlfriend he'd had years ago during a stint in California was to blame for his familiarity with the particularly gratuitous genre. She'd gone on and on about the stuff, of men with their Herculean physiques, gallivanting about in magically romantic adventures. Their counterparts were always naturally flawless, stunningly beautiful women whose only desire in their heaving bosoms was to be ~loved~.  
  
Kaz read onward, curiosity piqued.  
  


>  _Her slippered feet picked their way amongst hay-strewn floor, bringing her past a rack where bit and tackle were hung. She reached out and touched her fingertips to the tackle, worn from years of use, and wondered if his hands were just as rough and strong from handling the leather for hours a day. Perhaps she could wear the tackle, take the bit in her teeth. He could ride her like he did the mares, everyday, for hours._

  
  
"Damn," Kaz uttered, shaking his head, wondering when Celeste had last gotten some action -- if ever. He frowned as the passing thought invoked an inner voice that impishly reminded him that  _he_  hadn't gotten any in at least nine months, so he had no place to talk. Speculating about Celeste's stable-boy fantasizing purity, he sulked aloud to no one; "I'm not a virgin, at least."  
  
"Poetic," said a voice rude enough to intrude on such a sexually frustrated moment.  
  
Kaz was so surprised he actually slapped the book down on his chest like an affronted school girl caught red-handed reading a naughty little book in class.  
  
So much for speaking to no one.  
  
"I needed a cigarette," Kaz offered by way of explanation.  
  
Hyde cocked an eyebrow at him as he shut the door behind him, jacket slung over his shoulder, having already been in the process of toeing off his shoes. Apparently that tradition hadn't floundered despite being overseas. "Isn't that supposed to come after you read the steamy parts?" He made some rude gesture near his groin and Kaz threw the romance novel away in disgust.  
  
"It's your book," Kaz reminded him, sitting up straighter, crossing his legs to balance his elbows over his knees. "You should know."  
  
Hyde strode to the bed in his bare feet and sat, picking up the book with one hand while the other brushed his auburn fringe out of his face. He gave Kaz a cheeky smile. "Maybe I read it for the unintentional comedy that it is."  
  
"Fat chance."  
  
"You smoke too much." Hyde changed the subject. "Couldn't you find my cigarettes?"  
  
"That's a laugh, with how many you go through in a day," Kaz said, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he watched Hyde flip through the pages detailing Celeste's sordid love affair, dog-earing a page before tossing it back over near his bag. He didn't feel like telling Hyde that he didn't actually get around to looking for the cigarettes, that he'd been too busy perusing the book, so he lied. "And I changed my mind. I think I should quit."  
  
"You never quit anything," Hyde smiled, unconvinced. "I was thinking about doing that, too, though." His face turned a touch thoughtful. "I have enough bad habits."  
  
Kaz was wondering again; wondering what Hyde meant by that. He didn't have long to wonder, however, because Hyde had his bag in his lap in the next moment, was rifling through it. With a smile and a gleam in his eye, he pulled out something that made Kaz groan with realization of the inevitable.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Kaz had never met anyone who fit the tourist model better than Hyde; he loved every second of it. With all its expensive and cliche glory, no matter what city he found himself in, Hyde loved being a tourist. It was why Kaz couldn't deny him the company. When he'd brought out his travel books and city maps, charting out all the things he wanted to do in the scant time they had in the city before the live, he simply couldn't say no. As their period of time for potential relaxation slowly drew to a close with the sky turning orange and purple overhead, he recalled all the places in San Francisco Hyde had dragged him to. The god damn gift shops, landmarks, bridges, parks, restaurants, museums, art galleries... fuck.  
  
Hyde's excitement had been infectious, and even though he was bone-tired now, Kaz felt satisfied in having experienced it all. In the days previous, Kaz had been dragged practically by the hand around Anaheim and Disneyland. At the time he thought that was bad enough, but San Francisco had proven to drive Hyde into a frenzy of enthusiasm. Kaz wanted to place the sole blame upon San Francisco's Hyde Street. If he had to hold the camera one more time while Hyde stood beneath a street or cafe sign bearing his namesake he was going to strangle him with the safety strap. Nevertheless, Kaz had to admit to himself that he had a queer respect for him during all of this. Hyde wanted to run himself ragged just to see things with his own two eyes and savor things with his own tastebuds. It wasn't anything Hyde wanted to boast about; this was for himself.  
  
This was why Kaz's feet hurt like never before (Disneyland had at least had rides to sit down on) and he wanted a cigarette more than anything in the whole world. He couldn't even have one, either, without getting grilled by Hyde regarding his earlier pledge to quit. He elected to starve his lungs of the blessed nicotine. It couldn't hurt, anyway.  
  
Kaz didn't bother to shed his boots before throwing himself face-first onto his wonderful, luxuriant hotel bed after was finally released from Hyde's clutches and allowed to trundle into his hotel room. He curled his arms around the pillows and sighed as heavenly thoughts of never, ever leaving the bed and its comforting embrace floated through his mind. It would be traitorous, even, to abandon the soft loveliness for something as infantile as tourism or performing. He rubbed his face into the smooth cotton of the pillowcase.  
  
"Oh, bed, I love you," he husked indolently, gripping the edge of the pillow with loving tears welling in his eyes.  
  
"You've got some serious problems." It was that voice again, tinted with amusement, intruding upon yet another intimate moment. Why hadn't he locked the god damn door behind him?  
  
Kaz saw fit to grope for one of the lesser, decorative pillows and throw it in the general direction from which Hyde's voice had come. "Fuck off. I need alone time."  
  
"You had enough alone time with my book earlier," Hyde commented. Kaz felt the bed sink as the other man sat upon it. He just laid there, too happy to be off his feet to fight Hyde for his privacy. As long as he was horizontal he didn't care who was in the room with him. It could be King fucking Kong himself rooting around in his underwear drawer. His head was on the pillow. He didn't care. He was quite aware that he was seconds from drooling in pleasure. He hoped Hyde would see. He'd be so disgusted.  _Yeah. Take that, Hyde. You asshole._  
  
He felt hands closing around the curve of his boot heel and start to tug. He grunted as Hyde strained for only a moment before managing to get the boot off entirely, setting it down on the floor before moving for the other. This was only fair, Kaz reckoned. After running around all day Hyde could at least take his shoes off for him. The second boot proved a bit more of a challenge, and Kaz chuckled lightly in his half-doze as he heard Hyde cursing and struggling with the dense leather. The boot hit the floor with a harder force than its twin and it only served to make him laugh again, envisioning Hyde's face as he threw the footwear down in irritation.  
  
"Fucker." Hyde muttered. The curse served to confirm the correctness of Kaz's imagination. He heard the dual thunk of Hyde's own shoes hitting the floor seconds later, followed by the lowering of Hyde's weight upon the mattress, half on top of Kaz. Without anything beyond a noise of acquiesce, Kaz looped an arm around Hyde and allowed his exhaustion and the simple warmth of another body to carry him into unconsciousness.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
He was in a stable in the dead of night. Shafts of moonlight cut through a roof that was badly in need of repair, casting broken shapes upon piles of hay. He could see the stalls where horses slept, some curled up with foals. There was a rack to his left that had tack for horses hung upon it, all well-worn from use.  
  
As Kaz moved forward he felt the packed dirt floor beneath the satin of his footwear, and the diphaphenous fabric of -- was that a nightdress?! -- flowed around his ankles. Kaz smoothed his palms over his body, watching the way the moonlight played over the material. His body seemed to glow, like everything around him. The absurdity of being clad in women's lingerie, as it were, was apparently lost on him, as told by the quizzical expression on his face. He felt so _pretty_. Drawn like a fish with a hook snagged in its lip, he kept moving forward, the vague sense that he was seeking _something_  overwhelming his senses.  
  
As he rounded a corner, his hands trailing over the unfinished wood of an upstanding pole that served to hold up the roof, he caught sight of  _him_. His heart went all a-flutter on him, the force of his twitterpatedness pushing him back against the pole, his hand pressed flat against his chest to feel the frantic beating of his heart.  
  
"I knew you would come," husked the Adonis before him, reclined on a freshly tossed pile of hay, free of animal droppings that might marr the picturesque image. Wearing knee-high riding boots, leggings, and a formal shirt unbuttoned to the skin over his heart, Kaz suspected he saw Hyde's loose, unbound hair billowing in in a nonexistant wind.  
  
"Darling!" Kaz cried, then whispered, " _Darling..._ " His little heart was hardly able to contain his anticipation, his nervousness, his lust. The luscious manbeast before him raised his hand in age old invitation. Kaz lept into his arms with the precision and enthusiasm of a day-old wild pony. The smell of horses, sweat, and the oil that slickened Hyde's well-muscled torso filled his nostrils, and from so close he could see the stubble darkening his jawline. Kaz appropriately swooned.  
  
"Kiss me. Fill me with your heat," Hyde growled to him, so close that his chin rubbed up against Kaz's baby-butt soft face.  
  
"Yes..." Sighing, Kaz reached for him, drawing him nearer as the moon reached its peak in the sky, as a coyote howled on a distant hilltop, as all the planets aligned and made the moment the singlemost romantic...  
  
"Kaz."  
  
... moment of his life. There in the stable, where he'd...  
  
" _Kaz._ "  
  
... always fantasized... no, read about... this moment...?  
  
"KAZ."  
  
... oh, shit, he was dreaming.  
  
With reality slowly filling up his limbs and bleary, late afternoon nap-fogged head, Kaz dragged open his eyes with a sense of dread that had everything to do with the bulge at the front of his pants and the mirthful face of Hyde that confronted him.  
  
" _Well_ ," Hyde began smoothly, voice lowered to bedroom tones that had no business being directed at him. Kaz groaned inwardly and tried desperately to sink into the bedsheets and disappear, but it seemed he was trapped by the tangle of limbs they had become. "what were  _you_  dreaming about?"  
  
"I hate you." Kaz grated out, silently shouting at himself and demanding answers. A dream that ridiculous should not have the power to invoke any bodily reaction other than projectile vomitting. What the fuck.  
  
Eyes glinting, Hyde was not about to let up so easily. "You must really enjoy wandering around with me. All that bitching was just a front. You'd go through such a drawn-out scenario just for a chance to hump me in bed later? I'm flattered."  
  
"Shut up." Kaz grunted, not keen on entertaining a sadistic Hyde so soon after waking from... that. Shoving at Hyde's shoulders, he slunk out of the bed as carefully as he could while one hand cupped his groin in an attempt at concealment, making what he hoped was a discrete beeline toward the bathroom. All the pent up sexual frustration from earlier in the day, coupled with the elimination of always-calming nicotine, was taking its toll on his nerves. And dick, apparently.  
  
Once inside the bathroom, he merely leaned over the sink, running cool water to splash his face with. It didn't drown out Hyde's jovial hooting from the room beside.  
  
"I'll give you some privacy, unless it gets you off to know I'm listening?" Hyde tilted his voice up to a sweet, accommodating lilt at the last part of the sentence. Kaz could practically see him batting his eyelashes as he shut his eyes to rub more cool water onto his face. With a frown and an angry glare at the innocent running water, he splashed some of that onto the front of his jeans as well. He didn't dignify Hyde's baiting with an answer. Watching the front of his pants darken, he listened as Hyde laughed his way out of his room, shutting the door loudly behind him.

 

END  
  
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